


on your bed, in my head

by bangin_patchouli



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Cute, EXO - Freeform, Fluff, Kaihun - Freeform, Late Night Writing, M/M, No Angst, at all, idk - Freeform, jongin is very cute, probably poetic, sehun is very in awe, sekai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:48:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangin_patchouli/pseuds/bangin_patchouli
Summary: everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever needed





	on your bed, in my head

**Author's Note:**

> this is just something i couldn't help doing lol

* * *

-

      Sehun likes coming home. Not just because the disposition of work leaves him like a rush of cold air through a channel the moment he steps over the beaten threshold of his apartment. Not just because the constant chatter and the life moving on diminutively around him all fades out, dulls down to the soft sound of air wafting through the vents, muffled engines outside, Sehun’s bag being placed with a _thump_ on the floor, and Jongin’s quiet breaths emerging from over the back of the couch where he lies.

      And Sehun doesn't just mean _being_ home. It’s the act of _coming_ home that makes his heart flutter in the most quiescent of ways. It’s the walking through the door and subtly taking in all the essence of the place that he calls home. It’s the feeling of alleviation that settles upon his shoulders as he hangs up his responsibilities for the night. But more-so, it’s the adoration, the amiable ardor, that sparks in his heart, that spreads through his body by veins, that he feels when he rounds the corner of the passé blue couch and sees everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s ever _needed_ , lying right there. He think’s Jongin is slipping into the crevice in the back of the sofa.

      Sehun kneels down, hand subconsciously lying to rest only seconds away from Jongin’s. He is eye level, though his are open, wide open, and Jongin’s are still and closed. Sehun isn't specialized in eye contact. Maybe that’s why it’s easier now, easier to spend time on seeing Jongin. His eyes look gentle, delicately curved, but mostly at the ends. His hair almost covers them up, though, brown and soft, and a little too long, just the way Sehun has yet to tell Jongin he likes it. Sehun finds difficulty in trying to hold his hands back, because one of Jongin’s rests under his head, and the other lies in front of his face, slim fingers curled.

      Sehun’s eyes wander down; he squints. He think’s Jongin might be wearing his shirt. He might as well give it up now; it looks remarkably better on him. It’s riding up though, right below Jongin’s waist, revealing the warm toned skin of his hip and making Sehun’s head swim faintly. When he looks again, Sehun is sure that Jongin is wearing his sweats - they leave too much space around Jongin’s legs, and Sehun thinks if they weren't tied they would fall the second Jongin goes upright -, and he can’t seem to sit silently much longer.

      His hand finds his way naturally forward, the strands of Jongin’s hair so soft under his fingers; he doesn't blink, afraid he’ll miss it when Jongin opens his eyes. _To see every time Jongin’s eyes open_. He might have to jot that down on his bucket list. He might have to wake up pretty early, too though.

      “Jongin,” he whispers, letting it fall naturally from his lips, hoping it makes it’s way into Jongin’s ears. His fingers stray, moving to brush Jongin’s cheek, slightly blotched in a rosy red that might have had Sehun on his knees if he hadn't been already.

      And there it is: the moment Sehun has been waiting for. Jongin’s eyes flicker open, unfocused and covered in sleep. Sehun tilts his head. Jongin blinks a couple times. Sehun can feel his heart in his chest; he wonders if his face is as stoic as Jongin said it used to be. He hopes not, especially when a flimsy smile curves Jongin’s stout lips.

      “You’re home,” Jongin mumbles, the first syllable silent, taken over by the remnants of unuse.

      “I’m home,” Sehun says. “It is eight, isn't it? On the dot, like I said.”

      “I couldn't stay awake,” Jongin says, unmoving from his position. Sehun doesn't mind. He can see the lethargy in Jongin’s eyes, and it’s unmoving too.

      “I know.”

      Sehun’s standing up now, and the words are unspoken as he holds his arms outward. Jongin is in them within seconds, more or less on his own part than Sehun’s. With Jongin’s head against his shoulder, Sehun wishes tomorrow wouldn't come.

      Jongin’s thighs are lean and firm under Sehun’s hands, but it’s the leanness of Jongin’s that makes it almost effortless to lift him up, Jongin’s arms instantly around Sehun’s neck. Jongin wraps his legs around Sehun’s waist, and Jongin’s feels rightful and warm under Sehun’s hands. Sehun feels Jongin’s cheek against his neck.

  
      Sehun thinks that Jongin looks astounding against their yellow sheets, and he’s never been so sure of anything as he is now, seeing Jongin curl into himself atop them. His hair is already splaying, and Sehun can't get to him soon enough, not when Jongin is reaching his hand out and his eyes are already closing. Sehun is there in a heartbeat; how could he keep Jongin waiting? Under the covers that feel like home and smell like Jongin’s cologne, it doesn't take long for Mr. Sandman to come knocking on the door. Sehun’s eyes feel heavy, and Jongin feels asleep in his arms. It’s just another reminder of the best thing Sehun has ever, will ever, love in his life.

 


End file.
